


Path of the Shadow Hunter

by Zukajin_Wingbreaker



Category: Warcraft III, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Eventual Romance, Friendship, Growing Up, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Spiritual, Trials, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 22:05:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7658479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zukajin_Wingbreaker/pseuds/Zukajin_Wingbreaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vol'jin has seen war and destruction in their most twisted and purest forms. The Loa have been nothing but cruel when it comes to his trials and tests of leadership, but Vol'jin will never give up - no matter the cost. He is the the Fierce warrior to protect his own, the strength to Endure whatever threatens his people, and the leader who stays True to his tribe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Birth of a Hero

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Ao3!  
> I am Zukajin, and I've been posting my works in FFnet, but decided to expand here too, so I could reach bigger audience.  
> Path of the Shadow Hunter acts as a prequel, sequel and spin-off to my oldest (and first fanfiction I ever published in english) story, Once More. It might be wise to, uh... read it, too, but that might spoil the purpose of this story, and...  
> I just confused myself...  
> ANYWAY. This story is about the milestones of Vol'jin's life, and the events surrounding them. This story might end up really long, I'm not sure yet.  
> Please note: This will NOT contain spoilers of Legion. It's going to take a long time until I get to that point, and then they're not spoilers anymore. Hell, I'm not even in the events of Warcraft III yet, so there's going to be two games and five expansions gap between.  
> ... Wow, this is going to be a long ride.  
> Okay, I hope you enjoy my stories, and I hope to hear what do you guys think! I'm open for feedback and suggestions :)

**Path of the Shadow Hunter**

When he was young, the future seemed okay enough.

He had a goal to pursue; Vol'jin, son of Sen'jin, was to follow his father's footsteps in the way of the Shadow Hunter, and claim the spiritual leadership of his tribe when the time comes.  
He loved his tribe deeply, so he was happy to do whatever he can to ensure a bright future for his people. He owed _everything_ to every single Darkspear and their present and future offspring.

His arrival in this world wasn't an easy one; his mother had been sick for a long time, and giving birth to the future Darkspear chieftain drained her from the last shreds of strength from her.

She had her healthy, strong baby on her chest and the comfort of her husband holding her hand when Bwonsamdi invited her to join him to the Other Side.

From what he'd heard, old Sen'jin had been devastated by the loss of his soulmate for an unknown amount of time, but did not abandon his only son. When Vol'jin's mother wasn't able to be there, Sen'jin had the help of the mothers in his tribe, feeding the baby and helping their spiritual leader raise him like they have raised their own.  
While he was just a child, he had the tribe to feed him, comfort him, play with him and watch over him if his father was unable to do so. Therefore, at young age, he considered himself lucky to have several fathers, mothers and siblings, who were always there for him - no matter what.  
When he was of age to be able to hold a weapon, he decided that he _will_ become the leader his tribe needs: Wise like his father, fierce like a jungle panther, and enduring like a mountain that's watched the world change for thousands of years. That is the only way he could ever repay them for helping him and Sen'jin after losing a mother and a soulmate who the old man loved deeply.

Sure his childhood wasn't only about dancing in the field full of flowers and sunshine. He sure had his fair share of bumps and "sworn enemies" in his childhood; he swore eternal doom for several kids and adults when he was in the middle of growth pains as his tusks started growing and shaping. He had a few near-death experiences; with a shark attempting to attack him while he was out learning to swim with a bunch of other kids, but thankfully the adults teaching them were quick to spring to action and end the daring beast in front of their eyes.  
Needless to say, Vol'jin stayed out of the water for about a year after that.

Then he almost fell through the high roof of his and Sen'jin's hut simply because he saw a fruit hanging from a tree and he really, _really_ wanted it. After his father and a bunch of guards coaxed him to come down, his foot slipped and he crashed against a weak spot of the roof, almost falling through it head first if he wasn't quick to regain his balance and back off.  
He was grounded for the rest of the week for almost causing a heart attack for old Sen'jin.

He often came back from his adventures bruised, scratched but happy. He was mostly seen with Zalazane, his best friend from since they were toddlers.

They boys were practically inseparable; they were always up to no good together, plotting mischief and spending the days playing, talking, adventuring or racing each other until the other collapses. They experienced their first fight together, too, when an older kid bullied Vol'jin with whatever he could think of. Zalazane had been quick to protect his friend, and they ended up having a fist fight with the bully. They obviously won, because they were awesome (read: they were two against one, and Vol'jin found a nice coconut to crash into the bully's head when Zalazane kept him distracted).

Vol'jin was an energetic brat all by himself, but all that energy seemed to double whenever he was with Zalazane.

The chieftain-to-be loved Zalazane almost as much as his father, which was a lot. They could talk about their weaknesses, desires, fears… _everything_ without the other judging or picking on each other. They had each other's backs in good and bad.

They dreamed of the day when Vol'jin would become the spiritual leader of the Darkspear tribe, and he would have Zalazane as his right hand once they both were done with their training to be a shadow hunter and a witch doctor. Then they could spend the rest of their lives, growing old and grumpy together.

While he was not playing with Zalazane, he spent time training with his father. He learned to throw a knife, hunt with a bow and use different kinds of blades – mostly glaives, as he'd grown rather fond of them. He followed his father around like a curious puppy, watching him interact with tribesmen so he could learn to interact with his people like a spiritual leader.

Vol'jin's childhood was rather full of events with Zalazane, and learning the basic surviving and fighting skills from his father and a few other trolls that helped the old chieftain teach his son to be a soldier. Years passed, and the tribesmen admired what a fine young man the red-haired heir was becoming. He was only a teenager when Sen'jin had trusted him with some of the "adult" duties, such as scouting and aiding the huntsmen. The chieftain allowed him to carry his first glaive with him, too, along with a simple training bow. Even though his weapons gave him certain feel of power, he quickly learned to be humble after an angry boar started chasing him around the forests when he tripped on her piglet by accident.

Another year rolled by, and Vol'jin had found his place in managing hunting groups. He'd became a strong, agile young man with a quick wit and sense of fair judgment. He'd been training hard past year or so, because he knows he should be taking his trials in a few years. It was _almost_ time for him to attempt to harness the powers of a shadow hunter, and he couldn't be more excited.

When he returned from another successful hunt with his fellow huntsmen, a tribesman told him his father is expecting him by the bonfire. He wondered why, but quickly shrugged it off, released a few dead rabbits hanging from his belt and strolled through the village and to the beach. His father sat by the fire, alone.

When he joined his father by the fire, he could never forget the deadly serious look his father gave him. What he heard confused him, maybe even startled him a bit, but something in the old man's eyes told him everything was going to be okay. It was comforting, but it didn't suppress the feel of distress flaring within him.

From this point on, everything changes for both better and worse. The long, rocky journey of Vol'jin, Son of Sen'jin, is about to begin.


	2. First Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vol'jin learns many things about the future of him and his people.

" _My son_ ", Sen'jin started, falling silent. Vol'jin's ears lowered in concern as he studied his father's face. His expression was hardened into one of utter seriousness, with his jaw tight and chapped lips pressed into a thin line. His brows were knit together in thought as he stared into the fire in front of him. He could read some emotions from the old man's eyes: worry, sadness, _relief._ The young troll shifted uncomfortably. What was going on?

He wasn't stupid, he knew it was something bad. He had never seen his father like this… _hesitant_ , and it scared him. He wanted to urge him to continue, but he knew better. What old Sen'jin was about to say must be really hard to say, otherwise he would've said it already.

After a while, the spiritual leader sighed, long and quiet, before looking back at his young again.

" _I need you to go to First Home, tonight."_

Vol'jin blinked his amber eyes, not sure if he heard right. _"What?"  
"You heard me, boy, don't make me say it again_!" Sen'jin snapped suddenly, tearing his gaze from his heir and closing his eyes.

Fear flared within the red-haired troll. His father was confusing him; why did he act like this?

And most importantly, why is he sending him to his potential death? _"But I thought I need a few more years to get ready-"  
"That was the plan"_, the old shadow hunter interrupted, " _until now. I saw a vision of upcoming battle, and I need you to be ready for it."  
"What, when?" _Vol'jin asked, frowning. A battle? What's going to threaten their tribe?  
 _"Too soon!"_ Sen'jin barked again, his expression now wild with distress. The young troll flinched away from his father, whose ears dropped and his face fell in realization.  
" _I'm so sorry, Vol'jin. Come here."_ The spiritual leader motioned his son to come closer, who obliged hesitantly. His father pulled him into a hug, and he returned it instantly, wrapping his arms around his father's thin frame.  
 _"A large group of pink skins arrive with their big boats, and scatter their outposts all around the island. They wipe our hunting grounds clean and come for us next."_ Sen'jin murmured in his ear, and the young troll's heart sank.  
 _"I need you to go to First Home and face your trials now, so you can come back to our people and protect them. I will not let you stay and fight without the blessings of the loa."_ the old man retreated from their embrace so he could look at his son in the eye. " _Can you do that for me? For our people?"_

Vol'jin hesitated. He sure as hell didn't feel ready, this was too soon!

But when he looked at his father's ruby eyes and saw the trust and love for him, he felt like he had no other choice.

He _shouldn't_ have a choice, he realized. This was about his tribe being in grave danger. This was about pursuing his future as a shadow hunter and to-be-leader of the Darkspear tribe – he shouldn't even hesitate!

" _Yes"_ , he said, looking at his father with renewed – yet nervous determination. If this was what he needs to do to keep his family safe, then he should do it – no matter the cost. He will try to make things right or die trying.

" _That's my boy_ ", Sen'jin laughed quietly, ruffling his hair affectionately. " _You are making the old man proud."_

" _I will just grab my stuff and leave immediately"_ Vol'jin smiled, trying to hide his anxiety. " _I better hurry so I can join the preparation of defending the island."_

Sen'jin's expression twitched oddly, but he simply nodded and gave his shoulders a reassuring squeeze. " _I have one more thing. I saw your soulmate."_

The future chieftain blinked, tilting his head in confusion and curiosity. " _Really?_ "  
 _"Yes, but…_ " Sen'jin hesitated for a moment. " _That part of the vision was hazy. All I could see was green skin, dark mane and the power of the elements with them._ "  
The redhead nodded slowly, pondering who it would be.  
His tribe didn't have anyone with obviously green skin and a dark mane, not right now. There is this one woman with bluish-green skin and blue mane, which could be considered dark if she wet her hair.

Frowning in confusion, Vol'jin found the thought silly. She was mated already!  
He decided to brush the subject off, smiling at his father. " _Thank you for sharing this, I'll keep an eye out for whoever it might be. But I better go now while the sun is still setting."_

" _You can do it, my son. Your tribe will be waiting for you."_ Sen'jin smiled back, sliding his hands off his son's shoulders. " _Remember to take all your weapons and your finest armor with you. You'll need them."_

The apprentice nodded, gave his father a final hug before turning to walk away. " _I'll see you soon!_ " He called over his shoulder, and watched the chieftain simply wave back at him.

He hurried back to the village with long strides, trying to ignore the nagging voice in his mind that told him to read something between the lines. He had no time for that; he needed to find Zalazane.

* * *

" _Zally!_ " Vol'jin called, running up the stairs of Zalazane's family hut. He was greeted by a bunch of his best friend's sisters as he passed through. He glanced out of the window and saw Zalazane laying on a large, flat rock behind his hut, and he simply jumped through the window to get to his friend faster. He jogged next to the rock in hurry, and Zalazane opened his eyes. He cocked an eyebrow at the leader-to-be, who looked like he'd seen a ghost. _"What's burning, dude?"_  
" _I have to go to First Home, now"_ , the red-haired troll blurted out, watching his friend's eyes widen and his expression turning excited. " _What, now already?!"_ He exclaimed, sitting up on his rock. " _How come? I wish I could go face my trials too already, but they say I'm not ready yet-"_  
 _"Neither am I"_ , Vol'jin interrupted, looking around in case one of the other male's siblings were around and listening. When he saw nobody, he leaned closer to his best friend. " _Look, something really bad is about to happen here, which is why old Sen'jin wanted me to leave right away – so I could pass the trials and come back to help fighting some pink-skins back."_ He explained, watching as his friend's ears fell in confusion edged with fear.

" _But I'm…"_ Vol'jin hesitated for a moment, " _… afraid that I'm not skilled enough to survive the things in there, not on my own. What if I fail and never come back?"_

Zalazane looked at him, the expression on his face looking thoughtful. " _That is a possibility, yes…_ " He muttered, seeming to fall to his own thoughts for a while. Meanwhile, Vol'jin started pacing back and forth in front of his friend, trying to calm himself down.

He'd heard rather terrifying stories about First Home. It was a large island in the north, and it was a home for very dangerous and terrifying beings. Only the most skilled shadow hunters – and fools – ever go there – and not many of them come back home.

He was no shadow hunter yet, so he must be a fool to agree to this suicide mission.

Old Sen'jin never said he saw him alive and well in his vision, but he wouldn't be sending him there if he wasn't going to make it, right…?

" _Maybe I could come with you because, you know, two sets of eyes are better than one?_ " He heard his best friend suggest, and the future chieftain stopped to stare at his friend.

" _That's… actually a good idea_ ", Vol'jin agreed slowly, and Zalazane snorted, acting hurt.  
" _What, you're saying I don't have good ideas?!_ "  
Vol'jin snickered, feeling slightly better about the situation.

He will have company and someone watch his back during the trials. Even if Zalazane was far from being able to call himself a proper witchdoctor yet, he did know useful tricks that will help them during this journey. He wasn't confident about making it back alive, though – in the end, they were still too young, too inexperienced, and the worst of it all: they weren't shadow hunters.

But he will be, if he can live through all the trials. If he comes back, he can communicate with the loa like a proper spiritual leader, and gain their blessings in battle.

" _Thanks, Zalazane_ ", he smiled at his friend, who waved a hand dismissively. " _Don't mention it. Shall we?_ "

They set sail on a tiny boat just a moment later. They packed only the necessary supplies with them; some food and fresh water, bedrolls and two small tents. Vol'jin had his glaive and the training bow fastened on his back, and two daggers hoisted on his leather-clad thighs. His hunting armor was simple but sturdy, and its coloring allowed him to blend into the forest floor slightly better if needed.

Zalazane, on the other hand, was wearing his brightly inked leather kilt along with a chest piece – apprentice witchdoctors were handed those once they started their training. They weren't that protecting that Vol'jin would've wanted, but it'll have to do.

Several hex bags hung from his friend's belt, and he was leaning against his staff while he was rowing towards their destination. He didn't keep track of what witchdoctors actually needed to cast their spells, but the hex bags seemed full of, well, _something_. He trusted his best friend to make a good use of them once they arrived; when he looked at the high, thick jungle looming before them, he was sure their skills would be tested _very_ soon.

Once their little boat hit the sand under the shallow water and Vol'jin stepped out, he couldn't help but shiver at the feel of _being watched._

He turned around, and he was about to ask if Zalazane felt it too, but his friend was nowhere to be seen. He blinked at the empty boat. He didn't hear his friend stepping out of it. Even his bag was gone; there was simply no signs of the apprentice witchdoctor even being in the boat with him just a moment ago.

_What the…_ He frowned, but resumed dragging the boat into the dry land so the waves wouldn't take it. He grabbed the bag from the boat, eyeing his surroundings.

"Zalazane?" He called, and he was answered by a deep, echoing laughter. It was loud, and it wasn't coming from one particular direction – it sounded like _the jungle itself_ was laughing.

" _Assistance not allowed!_ " the voice boomed, never seeming to stop laughing, and Vol'jin slowly grabbed his glaive and assumed a fighting stance.

In a blink, the world around him seemed to be robbed in color. It startled him, causing him to step back and look around wildly. _Everything_ was in different shades of grey, white and black, and the jungle was dark with shadows.

Vol'jin swallowed nervously. The laughter seemed to get louder and louder the longer he stood there, his young mind starting to get frightened and second thoughts slithering into his mind.

No. Zalazane _is_ somewhere out here, he was sure of it – and his people needed him to do this. They needed him to come back as a shadow hunter, and chickening out is not going to help them survive the upcoming attack.

His father needed him to do this.

He needed to do this.

Taking a deep breath, he took a step forward. The laughter subsided into small, yet maniacal giggles. He scowled at whatever was laughing at him. Annoying little turd, whatever it was.

Once he stepped into the jungle, the forest fell quiet. He listened as he made his way deeper, waiting to hear someone attack, approach, _anything._ But nothing happened for quite a while. He just felt something watching him somewhere.

The jungle was very hard to navigate in. He learned that no sunlight or moonlight could breach the thick roof of branches and leaves above, and the jungle seemed to continue for miles.

Suddenly, he heard a twig snap somewhere behind him – and then something charge at him. He whirled around quickly, letting his glaive slash a wide arc in the air – and slash some kind of giant panther right through its throat. Its red eyes – the only color he could see, he noted - glowed in the darkness and its sharp, very sharp teeth were bared to him – but that one slash was enough to… kill it?

He didn't know what happened to it, as it faded into the air like smoke. Everything was quiet again, and he used a moment to calm his senses.

Until he started hearing twigs snapping and sprinting beings all around him.

_Shit!_ Vol'jin turned around again, and stabbed another gigantic panther in its throat. He sprinted through the smoke it left behind and ran away from the horde of angry panther spirits, and they followed closely behind.

His heart was on rampage, and adrenaline increased his speed significantly while he tried to figure out what to do. Survival seemed damn near hopeless, as they were catching up to him slowly but surely, and there were at least four of them. Should he be fighting them back? He can't run forever, so he should just go for it before they chase him to exhaustion.

… Wait.

Any of those panthers didn't seem to be on the hunt whole-heartedly. They all had a chance to outnumber him once they were charging at him _at the same time_ , but somehow he couldn't feel even a whisker brush him before he ran off.

He'd seen panthers hunt a few times in his life, and he knew they were brilliant at cornering their prey. He realized one thing: These just _followed_ him mindlessly, not actually chase him in an attempt to tear him apart.

He knew it might be a very dumb move that might cost his life, but it was the only move that would potentially end the situation he was in.

Coming to a halt, he whirled around again. Before he could even raise his blade in defense, the panthers ran into him… and exploded into a large cloud of black smoke.

Vol'jin blinked in confusion, but quickly forced himself to recover from the surprise. He read the situation right!

His urge to have a little victory dance was forgotten soon enough. He tightened his grip on his glaive when he heard laughter again – softer and quieter this time.

He sensed a presence standing behind him, and he quickly turned around, backing off from a smirking troll spirit with his glaive raised in front of him protectively.

" _Well done, son of Sen'jin_ ", the spirit complimented, " _You are the youngest of our kin to ever set foot on this land, but you are definitely not the dumbest."_

Vol'jin blinked. So it _was_ a mere test?

" _Usually I see shadow hunters fighting the beasts for hours, or get frightened by their numbers and exhaust themselves to death by running. Thrill of the hunt – or the horror of being hunted – shouldn't cloud a shadow hunter's mind: be above of the situation by reading it. There is no room for hesitation."_ The spirit explained, and Vol'jin listened. He took every word in: he'd heard every bit of advice he hears in this land helps him through the trials better.

He nodded at the spirit, lowering his weapon.  
" _Be careful, though_ ", the spirit warned, " _There are spirits who are on the hunt. And they will kill you, if you let them too close._ "  
Vol'jin knew this already, but acknowledged the spirit's warning with another polite nod.

" _Now_ ", the spirit started, " _I will show you to the haven where you can rest during your time here. I advise you to not try to camp anywhere else."_ The spirit turned, and started walking. Vol'jin followed, eyeing his surroundings warily.

The walk was long and quiet, but nothing interrupted their trek to the haven the spirit mentioned. The troll spirit led him into a clearing, and he could see the starry sky glinting above him. Okay, at least he could see if it was day or night while in the haven.

He glanced around the clearing. It wasn't a large one, just enough for a small spring and room for 4-5 tents and a bonfire.  
" _Just a small advice; use this haven only to rest for a while, otherwise you have to keep moving. The spirits will come running if you stay in one place for too long. Spirits can't enter this clearing, but they will crowd the edges to wait for you to step out."_ The spirit had stopped at the edge of the clearing, looking at the future chieftain with a never-dying smirk. " _Or stay here until you die, like that fellow"_ , he added, gesturing towards a male troll skeleton that sat against a tree trunk at the far end of the clearing. The young man frowned at it. He should probably bury it before he left.

" _Our time is up now, I wish you luck._ " The spirit waved at Vol'jin, and before the redhead could even thank him, he was gone.

The future chieftain pondered his words as he started setting up his tent with haste. The spirit didn't say how long he was safe to spend time here, and he didn't want to try it out. He would get some quick rest and leave again; he wanted to face the trials as fast as possible, and lurking around here was not going to help with that.

… Maybe. Hell, he doesn't know how this thing works!

When he spread his bedroll into the tent and dragged himself in, he couldn't help but agree that he was still afraid of things to come.

He was exhausted, so his eyes drifted shut quickly. Before sleep claimed him, he thought about the trials and the fight he was supposed to face once he got out. He hoped everything was okay while he was gone; and he sure as hell hoped Zalazane was okay. If he knew about them being separated from the very beginning, he wouldn't have agreed to let his best friend come with him. He knew the apprentice witchdoctor could take care of himself, but he didn't know if it was enough in this harsh environment.

* * *

_He heard screaming, weird bangs and sounds of battle. His home was on fire; children cried and tribesmen escaped into the forests while headhunters, berserkers and witchdoctors fought alongside larger humanoid creatures with green skins. They were relentless and posed a great threat to the pink-skins with bright, shining armors, shields and magic he's never seen before._

_With the help of the weird creatures, the attackers were quickly overran. They destroyed the outposts Sen'jin had mentioned, and destroyed most of the big boats that the pink-skins had used to transport themselves here._

_Then the scenery changed._

_Vol'jin could hear a droplet of water hitting a hard stone floor. It echoed in the darkness, joining the sounds of spears clashing and weird gurgling._

_He was in a large cave, with cages and an altar. Fishmen – who once were peaceful people - circled the altar, and he noticed a familiar figure being held there. His ruby eyes drifted shut, and he was clearly awaiting death._  
Father…?  
A larger fishman hissed something at a bunch of green-skins and trolls that were just outside the altar, fighting the fishermen so they could save the elderly troll.

_But it was too late; the larger fishman stepped inside the circle and jabbed his sword through his father's chest. He saw his father scream and spit out blood, before collapsing on his side with the sword still standing through him. One of the orcs tried coaxing his father to stand up and walk out with them, while he still was alive._

_His father refused._

_Then, he was suddenly standing in the middle of his now ruined village. He stood face-to-face with the man who had tried to save his father, and they shook hands while the creatures and his people cheered._

_And then, he didn't know where he was. It was a large, arena-like area, and there were green-skins, trolls and other weird creatures standing higher above, observing what was going on in the middle._

_There were two large creatures. One of them had a brown skin, bald head and menacing, yellow eyes, and the other was_ even larger _than the brown-skin. It had a thick, brown coat, magnificent horns, face like an animal and big hooves that thumped loudly when the creature charged towards the furious-looking brown-skin._

_Then the furry man was on the ground, obviously dead. The brown creature raised his axe above his head, shouting with the crowd, who seemed to go crazy. He saw creatures of the same species stare at the fallen man in horror; some of them cried and some of them were spitting insults at the smaller creature furiously._

_Before he woke up, he was in a jungle island again. At first, he thought it was one of the islands here, but he saw a land with a dry, red-ish ground not far away from the island._

_But what he really focused on was the fact that he was fighting, and not with just_ anyone _, but with his best friend, Zalazane. He was relentless with his hexes, but he wasn't giving any mercy either. He heard curses slip past his lips while he slashed and jabbed at his friend, who was having a hard time dodging him. Zalazane looked_ insane _, and Vol'jin knew he needed to get taken down for some reason._

_Just when Zalazane cast another painful hex on him,_ he woke up with a jolt, breathing hard and staring at the entrance of his tent.  
 _What the hell?_ The shadow hunter-to-be thought, quickly realizing it was a vision.

A deep frown appeared on his face as he recalled everything he learned from the vision. He slid his hands through his sweaty temples, and held his head between his hands.

Okay, he is to make an alliance with the green-skins. Their leader's eyes bore into his mind easily; they were so _blue_ , and they looked gentle and kind. His people helped his people chase the heavily armored enemies away, and tried saving his father, who… is destined to die in upcoming battle against the fishmen that follows.  
Vol'jin's ears dropped in sadness. That explains why old Sen'jin seemed to be on the edge earlier tonight; he must've seen his death too.

So that's why he was required to come here. They needed a spiritual leader once the old man is taken by Bwonsamdi, and time was running out.

… But then again…

These visions can be wrong. Why would he fight his best friend like that? It was an actual fight-until-someone-dies, not a duel. He really didn't see any reason for it. He was sure they would remind close friends until one of them dies.

And what about the vision about the furry guy and the funny-colored creature? He felt overwhelming sadness when he saw the hoofed one on the ground, and the green-skins cheering all around him gave him mixed feelings. What does it mean, seriously?

He laid back onto the bedroll again. He'll think about what he saw later. He felt like he didn't get any sleep, as he was still exhausted.

He closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift off.

Just for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't clear: When people speak in full Italics, it means they are speaking Zandali.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vol'jin faces his first trial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will talk more in the notes in next chapters, at the moment I'm just copy-pasting all of this, and I'd rather not include some stuff because they're not recent anymore!
> 
> Sidenote: At the moment, Vol'jin and Zalazane are barely adults. And as most classes, becoming a shadow hunter is a long process – usually it takes years of both physical and spiritual training to even attempt to take the trials. But seeing as Vol'jin is a mere teenager when he has to go take these trials, he is not even near of being as experienced as the others who took trials before him.
> 
> Another sidenote: Some of you might have heard of Yenniku. Some say he's a younger brother of Vol'jin, some say it's Vol'jin's one of the many offsprings. Well, he never happens to exist in this story, simply because it's not clear if he's Vol'jin's brother or his son. And I'm sure he can't have offspring, not in this story anyway *coughs*.

 

Vol'jin opened his eyes, staring up at the roof of his tiny tent. He felt still tired, so it took a while to process where he was again. And when he did, he was out of the tent in a flash.

He could hear whispers from the edge of the little haven he was in. There weren't many, but it made him wonder if he's been here for too long – or are the spirits just… watching him or something.

The visions were still haunting him, but he pushed them into the back of his mind. He had no time to think of them – actually, he couldn't think of anything else than how he will get past the spirits that's gathered on the edge of the sanctuary.

He couldn't just rush out of there now, not without observing and planning his escape. He avoided eye-contact with the spirits as he gathered his weapons and refilled his skin with fresh water in the spring, forcing himself to act as casual and take his time.

As he knelt down to wash his face and neck, he listened to the surrounding sounds, carefully pinpointing where the spirits were located. He wiped his hands on the grass surrounding him, taking careful glances on his sides.  
He quickly sprung to action. He was on his feet in a second, sprinting into the jungle in the direction which – he believed – was clear from lurking spirits.

He underestimated how fast spirits can be, though. He didn't get far before he could feel something cold and vile grasp his arm, the hold turning painful quickly.

Vol'jin yanked himself free, slashing a wide arc with his glaive as he turned to strike at whatever was behind him. He cut through the vengeful troll spirit's chest, and the male ghost winked at him as he disappeared with a faint trail of smoke. The red-haired troll blinked, but continued running into the jungle as quickly and silently as he could, his hand grasping the handle of his glaive.

* * *

The chieftain-to-be was becoming annoyed. He can't exactly say what the time is due to the thick jungle roof, but he was sure he's been running around for _hours_ , and nothing else but spirits attacking him had happened.

And the jungle seems to be never-ending. Seriously – he hadn't seen even a glimpse of the beach or the sea that was surrounding the jungle. No matter what he did, he didn't seem to get out.

It's not like he was planning to escape – but the thought of being able to go to the beach and see his home in the distance would be comforting. Like that, he would have the _option_ to end this all and go home if needed, but now… he seems to have no other option than take whatever the jungle gives him.

And at the moment the only thing the jungle's given him was _hard time_.

And the worst thing was that he didn't know if this was his trial, or is it going to happen some other day, does he have to do something, or go somewhere to cause the loa to acknowledge him…

_Bah, good joke_ , Vol'jin snorted, _there's nothing else but this stupid jungle and the haven._

He was completely and utterly clueless, and it frustrated him! His father nor the elders didn't prepare him for this. They should've told him more about the trials, because now he just feels stupid, running around like this.

Suddenly, a spirit appeared and blocked his way. The young male ghost smirked, his white eyes void with emotions. Determined, Vol'jin only quickened his footsteps, charging at the spirit with his glaive raised and ready on his side. The spirit met him halfway, still smirking like a maniac, and raised a sword that the young redhead didn't see before.

The chieftain-to-be stopped on his tracks, quickly rising his glaive above his head to block the sword's way towards his head. He could hear his glaive take the hit with a metallic clank, but the other's weapon made no sound. The troll spirit barked a laugh, and before Vol'jin could react, the spirit kicked him on his chest, sending him flying.

He hit the ground on his back, sending air out of his lungs. He coughed and forced himself to recover from his disorientation quickly as the spirit fell on his knees above him, rising his sword to cleave his head in half like a coconut.

Once again, he managed to parry the attack with his glaive, pushing the blades towards the spirit so he could sit up and protect himself better. Now the spirit was snarling at him, barking "die" among other things.

The redhead growled menacingly at him. His blade kept small screeching sounds as he was blocking the sword and slowly pushing the spirit backwards. Their faces ended up so close that Vol'jin saw nothing but the spirit's dead eyes and the ugly snarl that showed cracked or missing teeth and the lack of tongue.

Suddenly, he noticed something change in the troll's eyes, his expression turning into a smirk again. He felt the spirit pull his sword against his glaive, his blade singing again. Before the chieftain-to-be could even think of the spirit's next move, he snatched a dagger from his thigh and thrusted it through the spirit's throat before he could jab his weapon through his stomach.

He watched the spirit fade, his eyes locking on the sword that was hovering right above his stomach before it disappeared with its owner.

When Vol'jin stood up, he noticed how much his heart was racing. He felt dizzy, but forced himself to move.

Things seemed to calm down after a while. He doesn't know if it's a good or a bad thing, but he definitely didn't feel any calmer.

He slowed his pace, keeping his ears high and eyes focused on his surroundings. All of his senses were alert of possible threats, but the jungle seemed to be frozen in time.

He was all alone.

The young troll was confused. What does this mean?

As long as he's alone, it doesn't matter. He decided to take a short break before finding out.

He reached a large tree, and he tucked himself between two large roots on the surface. He stabbed his glaive in front of him, shaking and stretching his hand. It had started to hurt to hold the glaive and keep his fingers in the same position all the time

He took the water skin and took two large gulps of water, savoring the fresh taste of it.

The haven and the spring were the only things he liked in this place. Without his best friend's company, this place has been everything else but pleasant. If he only had Zalazane alongside him, things would go more smoothly – he was sure of it.

As he put the skin away, he let his mind wander more.

Those visions he had; they have been lurking in the back of his mind ever since he saw them. He had so many questions he was eager to find answers to. But he can't pursue his thirst of knowledge, not here. What he saw was _probably_ going to happen in the future, but he wasn't sure about the vision of Zalazane.

What would drive them to jump at each other's throats like that? He will never want to hurt him like that! He was loyal, and his slight thirst of power will make him a powerful ally one day. Zalazane understood him more than anyone ever has.  
It was utterly heartbreaking for the young chieftain-to-be to even think of, so he decided to focus on another vision while he kept watch of his surroundings.

The ocean blue eyes were quick to invade his thoughts. He didn't know why, but he felt like staring at them for a long time – if they were _that_ blue as the vision showed him. It was scary at first, but he could tell from the man's eyes in the vision that he was going to be safe. His people were going to be safe.

And that caused something to burst deep within his mind. He didn't know what, but he felt warm because of it..

With these thoughts, Vol'jin stood up. It was time to keep moving; he felt sudden determination to keep moving – if he keeps sitting around, the trials would never happen and he would never get out of here.

After a while of walking, he was surprised to see the haven in front of him.  
 _What…?_ Vol'jin thought, confused. As far as he knew, he's been running _away_ from the haven this whole time, and then he stumbled upon it so suddenly.

He would've guessed there would be more clearings like the haven, but he saw his tent, the skeleton, the spring, and…  
Zalazane lying on the ground with his eyes closed, unmoving. The chieftain-to-be blinked, his eyes widening in fear. What is he doing here? Is he alive?

" _Zally!_ " Vol'jin shouted, rushing to his friend's side. He knelt beside him, searching for a pulse from the vein under his jaw. He sighed in relief when he felt his heart beating strongly.

" _Zalazane_ ", Vol'jin called again, this time more calmly. He nudged at the other troll's shoulder, seeking for a response – but got none. He frowned in concern, eyeing his friend.  
There were cuts and scrapes on his arms and knees, and his kilt was torn, but otherwise he seemed to be unharmed. He must've collapsed in exhaustion, then – he wouldn't be surprised.

Vol'jin shrugged, moving to wrap his arms around his friend's chest, starting to drag Zalazane towards his tent. He was sure his friend will be alright, he just needs to sleep.

He was happy to see his friend was somewhat in good shape in this hellhole. It's been lonely to be here by himself for – Vol'jin glanced up towards the sky – one whole day? It was night again, so he must've been spending the whole day running and fighting back the spirits. The time seems to pass here unnaturally fast... Or he's lost the track of time due to the fact that there's no way he could tell the time in the jungle.

Vol'jin pushed his friend inside the tent as well as he could. There was no way two troll males would fit in the tent together, so he'll let Zalazane have it for now.

But they packed two tents with them… Where was Zalazane's bag?  
He turned, glancing around the haven. He couldn't see any bags lying around, so the apprentice witchdoctor must've lost it along the way.  
" _Hey_ ", Vol'jin nudged Zalazane's foot, " _Where'd you leave your bag?_ "  
Zalazane's leg twitched, and he grunted in his sleep, turning to his side. His head drooped towards the ground until his tusk was digging into the soil beside the bedroll. The chieftain-to-be chuckled quietly, standing up.

He'll let his best friend sleep. He's going to need it.  
He walked to the spring, kneeling next to it. He cupped his hands and scooped water with them, drinking eagerly.  
As he was cleaning his minor scrapes and wounds he'd had during the fights with the spirits, a thought popped into his mind.

Did Zalazane know about the haven being a safe place only for a short time?  
He glanced towards the tent and the feet peeking out of it, hearing faint snoring from there. He couldn't wake his friend up, and he needed his rest too…

Perhaps he can clear things up for him once he awakes. He needed to make sure Zalazane won't stay here to lure dozens of spirits and block both him from getting in and himself getting out.  
Vol'jin had to settle on that – there was nothing else he could do at this point. So, he set the weapons in the middle of the haven, and laid down onto the grass next to the tent.

He listened to his best friend's familiar snores until drifting to visionless sleep himself.

* * *

Whispers.

So many whispers.  
Vol'jin jolted awake, pulling himself up quickly and arming himself. He glanced around – there were half a dozen of spirits just outside the border, taunting him.

_Oh no._

" _Zalazane!_ " The chieftain-to-be shouted, rushing to the tent. When his friend didn't react, he had to do _something_ – so he punched his leg.  
The apprentice witchdoctor yelped, sitting up and glancing around wildly. When he laid his eyes on the redhead, his expression brightened.  
" _Vol'jin! I'm so happy to see you!_ " Zalazane exclaimed, and the other troll smiled briefly, before the whispers around him reminded him of the dangerous situation they were in.

" _We don't have much time. I don't know if you know yet, but this is the haven of this jungle – but you_ can't _be here for too long. Being in here lures spirits to the edge of this clearing, and if you stay for too long, you will either be overwhelmed by spirits or die here._ "  
Zalazane's eyes widened in horror. He jumped on his knees, bumping into his friend as he took a peek outside. " _Oops?"_

" _So use this place only to quick rest, eat and refill your skin, nothing else"_ , Vol'jin continued, standing up and turning to glance at the spirits who keeps whispering the same thing, yet he can't grasp the meaning.  
" _We both have to go, now"_ , he turned his glance back to his friend, the vision suddenly popping into his mind. " _Try to come back next night. We need to talk."  
_ "… _Yeah, we do_ ", Zalazane agreed, and the redhead arched an eyebrow.

Did his friend see the vision too?

" _I'll see you later then, can't stay here anymore_ ", Vol'jin nodded, " _I'll try to lure those spirits to me, so you might be able to sneak by."_ He added, quieter this time, and secured his daggers on his thighs, strapped his bow and a quiver on his back and twirled the glaive on his hands.  
" _Thanks_ ", Zalazane stated, nodding. " _I'll see you here!"_

" _Be safe!_ " Vol'jin called as he started running towards the edge of the clearing, rising his glaive in front of him. " _Hey, come get me!_ " He shouted as he stepped into the jungle, whirling with his glaive and successfully cutting several spirits in half as they lunged at him.

Suddenly, a sharp pain slashed right through his brain. He grunted, almost losing balance and dropping the glaive, but he managed to regain his stability and the grip on his weapon.  
 _What…?_ Vol'jin thought, but even thinking made the throb in his mind worse. He tried to keep his fighting stance, but it seemed unnecessary – as the spirits hovered nearby, staring, but not attacking. Their whispers intensified, and he could make up few words and parts of sentences; _trials, it started, don't touch._

Vol'jin frowned. A trial?

Is this horrible pain a part of a trial?

_I guess I'll have to find out_ , he thought, but quickly forced himself not to think as the pain stabbed even worse than it was before. He yelped quietly, pressing a free hand against his temple, trying to ease the pain with rubbing it lightly.  
He started walking into the jungle, trying to keep his footsteps as light as possible – he could feel every step as painful throbs in his head.

After a short while, it felt like he was walking on burning charcoals.

After another while, it felt like he was _rolling_ on burning charcoals.

With every step, the pain got worse and worse. His skin was prickling in the most unpleasant way, like something was skinning him alive while he still walks.  
There were small things he could notice before his brain felt like an angry porcupine had fell on him quills first; if he encountered a spirit, it backed off, stopped to watch or started to follow him. He didn't know how big of a crowd he had following him currently, but he couldn't even think of that.

The pain has radiated everywhere; his teeth felt like someone's been punching them over and over, trying to break them. His tongue rested slack against the floor of his mouth, but felt like it was being pulled out of its place. Even his tusks felt like they were about to crack off from his skull from even the slightest movement.

It felt like hours of walking with this horrible pain, but in reality, Vol'jin had managed only so far that if he turned, he could still see a glimpse of the empty haven in the distance.  
His posture was slumped as he limped forward, grasping his glaive so tight his knuckles turned white. He bit his tongue to keep himself from screaming his lungs out because of the pain, but it was becoming more and more unbearable.

He didn't notice he'd stopped moving at some point. His grasp on his glaive slipped, and he collapsed on his side to the ground. He felt like the ground was burning him, and he couldn't help but finally scream and scream and _scream._

" _Poor, little boy"_ , he heard someone whisper, " _What are you doing here, playing adult games like this?"  
_ His horrifying screams of pure agony died on his lips. He let out occasional whimpers when he willed himself to stay quiet, listening.

It felt like about an hour with the horrible pain until he heard that someone speak again.

" _It hurts, doesn't it?"_ It asked, and Vol'jin felt anger flare within him, as if the voice was the one who caused him to be in this state. He would've roared something if he could – but right now his throat felt like something was cutting slices out of it.

" _There is a solution for that, you know, it's right in front of you",_ the voice told him, and Vol'jin opened his eyes. He really wanted the pain to stop; it made him feel dizzy and about to pass out, but something was preventing him from escaping it by falling unconscious.

Even more reasons to see what the solution is.

He grabbed his glaive, starting to drag himself forward. Every movement was agonizing; his muscles and insides felt like clenching and fighting to work.  
A flash of ocean blue eyes and their people cheering at him, and the furry creature flashed in his mind – with a painful price, of course – but it filled him with determination.

Whatever this is, he'll do it.

Finally, he dragged himself close enough to see what the voice was telling him about.  
He found himself staring down a cliff. It was a long fall, and the ground underneath was full with sharp-looking boulders and spears which have been jabbed to point upwards.

There were plenty of skeletons underneath – even some fresh and a bit older corpses.  
If Vol'jin thought the pain was at its peak before, he was wrong. Suddenly, the pain increased to even more unbearable level; like every cell of his body was fighting themselves. Getting stabbed, poisoned, bitten, burned, cursed, hacked, beaten, whatever felt nothing like the pain he was currently having! He couldn't even scream anymore, as it would cause pain in both his ears and throat.

He collapsed onto his side again, curling against his legs as the voice spoke again; " _One roll down the cliff: that's all it takes. You can end the agony you feel right now; you can make sure you'll never feel pain again."_

_A quick death._ That's what it is; the voice was right. In mere seconds, he could end this agony once for all. To be honest, it was very tempting, as all he wanted at the moment was the fucking pain to stop…

But he couldn't do it.

Committing suicide at this point would be a selfish thing. He didn't come here to kill himself on his first trial; he came here to learn the spiritual ways of the shadow hunter, so he can claim the leadership of his tribe and keep his people safe.

His future after that didn't seem a bright one, with the furry creature dying and fighting Zalazane, but he didn't want to live to make _himself_ happy.  
He would live to make sure his tribe is safe and happy. It's his job, his sole purpose in this world – and he is more than willing to accept his fate.

" _What will it be? Will you end it all? Death isn't so bad, you know"_ , the voice assured, but Vol'jin used all his will to shake his head, even if that felt like the movement shattered his spine and the shards dug into his flesh, tearing things inside even more.

" _So you'll endure?_ " the voice asked. The tone changed clearly, but Vol'jin couldn't grasp if it was for the better or worse.

He felt like he couldn't move his head anymore, so he stayed still on the ground, his face twisted into a painful frown and his whole body shaking and sweating in distress.

A while rolled by, and the voice didn't speak anymore – but the pain was still present and very persistent. There was no place in his body that wasn't all burning, getting stabbed and all that. He really wanted unconsciousness to claim him – as long as he didn't actually die. That was _not_ an option while his people still need him.

Suddenly, the weird pressure, which he didn't even notice before, was gone from his head.  
The pain started fading slowly, but surely. Once Vol'jin could move again, he took his glaive, and carefully stood up, frowning. What's happening now?

He glanced around, seeing several dozen of spirits staring at him from a distance. They started whispering at each other, turning around and fading into the jungle. The chieftain-to-be blinked, not currently grasping what was going on.

Then he saw _color_. His eyes snapped towards it, and he saw a female spirit standing rather close to him. She had bright orange hair, and she had a forest green dress with darker brown and orange tribal markings.

_A loa?_ Vol'jin pondered. It must be; she was the only thing he'd seen in actual color in this place, and he can feel strong power radiating from her.  
The chieftain-to-be gulped nervously, bowing for the spirit deeply to show respect. He kept his eyes on her, and he saw the female giggle (he didn't hear it, though) and give him a thumbs up before disappearing.

_Does this mean I passed the first trial?_ Vol'jin thought, feeling excited. _It must!_

He almost started running in joy, but was quickly stopped by the pain still lingering in his body. He didn't even mind the pain anymore, as it was slowly but surely fading – and _he passed!_  
  
His travel back to the haven was uneventful. Spirits seemed to stay out of his way for now, which he was thankful for.

Even the distance between the cliff and the haven seemed ridiculously short, and he was glad to be able to get to "safety" fast. He stripped off his armor and sunk into the spring to ease the throbbing of his muscles in the cold water, sighing in relief as he felt the pain fade faster.

He glanced up at the sky, frowning. It's darkening again. How long exactly he'd been out there?

No matter, it's over now – and Zalazane should be here any moment.


End file.
